The last nite that my mother spent alive, I left her hospital room to spend it with Bob, to support him while he spent time with his family. A family he ridicules and by his own admission, resents, despises, is extremely uncomfortable around, and therefore rarely sees.

I spent the final evening that my mom had on this earth with Bob and the family he really couldn’t care less about.

And he fucked another woman. Spent work time and spent spare time. Spent work money and spent spare money. Spent our time and our money.


Fuck you, Bob.

Fuck you for that nite and all of the thousands of times I sacrificed anything or helped you, no matter how minute or magnanimous. Fuck you for forgetting.

You know?

I am spent.

Just spent.

That’s all.

Just. Fucking. Spent.


2 thoughts on “Spent

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  1. Get it out 😌 just try not to live there permanently. I see your wounds, I’ve battled my fair share and appreciate your courage to share something that’s still raw. Scream it until your lungs hurt! Then put some ointment on it and let that fucker heal πŸ’– Sending big love to a fellow warrior 😌


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